We'll Cover You
by HeavyDrugsOrGroupHugs
Summary: What would have happened had Moritz actually escaped to America? Who would he have met? Moritz thinks he can escape his pain, but he soon learns that sadness is everywhere and he has no way to control it.
1. Center of the Universe

**What would have happened had Moritz actually escaped to America. He meet the bohemians! This is assuming that Rent and Spring Awakening were happening at the same time. Set post Rent, mid 90s ish, because that's a lot easier to work with. This is also assuming that Moritz speaks English.**

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**Mortz's POV**

The harbor loomed up in front of me like a wall I had to climb before reaching somewhere more solid that the place I was dying to leave. Small sailboats bob in the water like dogs eager to get out and play, but I was searching for something larger.

"Excuse me," I say to the guy in an old navy hat, studying a piece of paper with an expression of disapproval.

"Yeah? What do ya want, kid?"

"Um, I'm looking for a ship? To America?"

He looked me over once, twice, eyes full of doubt.

"That's my ship over there," he said, pointing to a huge passenger boat spewing a cloud of smoke from its columns. "What do ya want with it?"

Shit. "Well, uh, I need to get on it. I need to leave here. I don't have any money but I'm strong and I can work hard. You don't need to pay me or anything. I just need passage, and food, I guess, but I'm not picky." My plea came out in one breath and I mentally kicked myself for it.

The man stared at me for a second, and then broke into a grin, showing yellowing, and several missing, teeth. "A runaway, eh? Well, kid, I was a runaway once too. Got me pretty far, dinnit?" He laughed, a breath stinking of whiskey at me and took my hand. "I got a place for you, kid," he said.

Two hours later, the captain left me in the crew's bunkroom. I stared at the rope hammocks, the rough floors, and threw my bag at me feet before climbing the steep stairs to the crew's deck. I felt a jolt as the huge ship began to move and I leaned over the railing, taking one last glance at the country that didn't have room for me anymore.

A sailor who couldn't have been much older than 20 appeared at my side, watched with me as the shoreline became a blurred line on the horizon.

"New kid, eh?"

I nod, and then ask, "Where are we headed, anyways?"

He grins at me as he answers, "New York City, center of the Universe."


	2. You Okay Honey?

**I guess it's fair to say that Angel lives for the purpose of this story. Enjoy**

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**Moritz's POV**

Stepping off the boat in New York City was like stepping into a new world. Huge buildings towered over my head, literally scarping the sky. Hundreds of people moved in a flow, heading who knows where. The sounds alone were like a jungle, car horns and human voices mingling together to create an exotic wall of sound.

Now, two hours later, I have let the noise seep into my subconscious as I roam this jungle's streets. I look at everything, for there's so much to see. Shops selling everything imaginable, the wealthy strutting like peacocks, children held safe in their parents' arms. Then, the darker side of the city, lit up with holiday lights though Christmas is still a month away. People huddled on doorsteps and in alleys, people begging for money, but also begging for something more with their eyes as I pass.

Night is beginning to fall, though the city's lights seem to make me forget this until I look at the sky. I see no stars. I begin to worry. I have no money and no place to stay. I think back, briefly, to the warm below-deck room where the crew slept, and the rough but hearty meals we enjoyed. But now I begin searching for a place to rest my head for the night. _Here it is, America, _I think to myself as I turn corners in this darker part of town. I'm about to search for an empty doorstep and join in the ranks of New York's homeless when a small café comes into view, drawing me in with the remembrance of food.

As I near the door of the restaurant, still unsure about whether or not to go in, a group of people tumble out. They're laughing as they start down the street, away from me, their smiles painted in their faces, seemingly oblivious to the cold evening. One woman turns her head to glance back at the man holding her hand, sees me and stops.

"Guys," she calls, and they all turn as she starts over to me. I look at the ground, but watch as her talk platform boots move towards me.

"You okay, Honey?" she asks, a few feet away from me, and I glance up at her face quickly, then do a double take. The woman before me with the tall boots and bright makeup is a man!

I take a step back as one of the men moves forward, putting his hand on his companion's shoulder.

"Hey, kid, you alright?"

I look at him, trying not to stare at his friend as I shrug. The man suddenly looks worried.

"You got somewhere to go tonight? Where are your folks?"

I take a breath before answering. "I'm alone. I've – I've got nothing. I just got off the boat today."

The man looks back at his friends, than smiles at me. "You want to stay at our place tonight, kid?" he asks, and after a second I nod, feeling both worried and relieved as he smiles at me again.

"I'm Mark," the man says as we begin down the street to his friends.

"Moritz," I say as way of introduction.

"And I'm Angel," says the person I had mistaken for a woman beside me. "Honey, you look like you've never seen a drag queen before."

I just shrug.

"Well, honey, you're sure gonna get to know me," she giggles, and for the first time since reaching New York, I can't help but smile.


	3. We'll Cover You

**Mark's POV**

I'm interested in this kid. He's maybe fifteen with wide eyes that seem too old for him. His dark hair sticks out from his head, but from the look of him, I don't think he did it on purpose. He's pale, and his clothes seem worn and not nearly warm enough for this time of year. He doesn't seem to notice the cold, but keeps his head down as we walk, sometimes stealing glances at Angel, who is holding him on her arm.

We get back to the flat and everyone tumbles into comfortable positions, sprawled over the table, couch and floor. Moritz stands back; looking unsure and terrified until Angel pushes him lightly into a wooden chair.

Roger moves into the kitchen area and pulls out a bottle and a stack of plastic cups. He comes back, pours drinks for everyone. When he picks up a glass for Moritz, I stop him.

"Rog, wait, I donno if he can have that."

Roger pauses, looks at Moritz. "You old enough for this shit, kid?"

Moritz stares for a moment then shakes his head.

Roger shrugs. "Fuck it. You're in New York now, kid. You gotta grow up sometime."

Roger fills the glass and hands it off to Moritz, who sips the alcohol apprehensively. The room is quiet for a moment as everyone pretends not to stare and Moritz, and he pretends not to notice. Finally, Maureen breaks the silence from Joanne's lap.

"So, Moritz, right? Where are you from? How come you're here? I mean, not that we mind or anything. We're just, you know, curious." Maureen smiles brightly at him, then ads, "I like your hair," as if trying to coax him out.

The rest of us look at each other with the same thought. Was Maureen being too forward? We all wanted to know about this kid, but the quiet boy sitting in our flat seemed to hold twice his lifetime's worth of secrets.

Moritz slowly sets his cup on the floor at his feet and looks at us, taking us in, deciding what to tell.

"I'm from Germany," he began quietly. "Small town. Not important. I – I wasn't the best student, but shit, I wasn't supposed to fail or anything."

His eyes hold ours.

"The school system is harsh. They failed me. I tried so hard, and I knew I was passing, but they let me fall. It was a joke, a cruel joke.

"My father kicked me out for that. Told me I wasn't his son anymore. I wrote to one of the only people I could trust, the mother of my best friend. I asked for money to escape to America. She wouldn't help me, or couldn't help, I don't know. I begged my way onto a ship, spent the passage working. Got to New York. Met you."

Moritz finished, reached down and took a sip from his cup. His eyes are blank. Several faces in the room suddenly break out into smiles. Mimi goes over and hugs him and Angel takes his hand.

"Honey," she says, "we know what you've felt. We've been through the same thing. Stick with us, hon. We'll cover you."


	4. Out Tonight

_I'm thinking of having Moritz fall in love with Mimi. Possibly in the next chapter._

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**Moritz's POV**

I learned quickly that night that the flat is Mark's, although many of the group had lived there at one point. Up until I got here, he was alone for the first time since he has lived in the city.

"You can stay with Mark," said the man who sat with Angel. "He needs someone to keep him company now that he's the only one not getting laid."

I watched as Mark's ears went red and the group laughed at his expense.

Once everyone had left, Mark showed me a small room with a welcoming bed and stacks of paper with music notes scribbled on them. "Roger's old room," he said with a shrug, then closed the door. I fell onto the bed that night and slept more fitfully than I had in weeks.

The next morning, I had stepped out into the flat's big open space to find Mark standing over the counter. "Coffee?" he offered, and I nodded, enjoying my first taste of it. Over mugs of steamy bitter liquid, Mark explained the lives of his friends.

"Well, first there's Roger. He'd lived here for as long as me until he met Mimi. Now he lives with her downstairs," he said with a grin as he banged his foot on the thin floor. From below, we heard a faint "Shut up, Mark!"

"Roger is a musician," Mark points to some faded concert posters with Roger's face on them taped to the wall. "And Mimi dances," he says quickly, but I can't help but imagine the beautiful girl I had met last night moving gracefully across a stage, perhaps some sort of ballroom, or contemporary.

"Collins and Angel live not too far away, though Collins lived here for a while. He's teaching now, again, but he keeps talking about moving out west and opening a restaurant." Mark laughs. "Of course, Roger's already tried that. He lasted about a month. And Collins isn't going anywhere as long as Angel's around.

"And then there's Maureen and Joanne…well, Joanne is very nice. Successful, caring, good person." Mark suddenly seems to want to get away from the topic.

"What about Maureen?" I ask, suddenly intrigued.

"Um, well, see, Maureen and I –" Mark stutters. "See, we had a thing once. I mean, we were together for a while. A few years. Anyways, that was a long time ago. I'm over her now," he said, not meeting my eyes. "Just be careful around Maureen, ok, Moritz? She's… flamboyant to say the least.

I smile at him, thankful for the peak of his life he had allowed me. He smiled back, then stood and stretched. "You can explore the city, or stick around here today if you want," he said. "We're having dinner at the Life Café again. You can get to know everyone better then. Just be back before dark. We're going out tonight."


	5. Wine and Beer!

**Mark's POV**

Tonight at the Life Café, I watch Moritz as I see him let go for the first time. He drinks the glass of wine Roger places before him. Again, he seems fascinated by the group of people who took him in.

A few times, I see him deep in conversation with Joanne, who seems to have established a friendship with. However, he seems wary of the warning I gave him earlier, for his eyes flash quickly over her face, but never stick, and he glances my way, looking slightly uncomfortable when Maureen pulls Joanne away with a kiss. I smile at him and he grimaces back, but he has a new light playing over his face as he grows accustomed to this family.

Several times, I catch Moritz staring at Mimi as she wiggles in her seat, laughing often as Roger leans into her, probably tickling her under the table. I watch Moritz watch Mimi and wonder what he could be thinking about her. For a small-town boy, Mimi must seem the ultimate perfection. She's the youngest of us here, only 5 years Moritz's senior and she still holds her girlish charm. Hey eyes sparkled, and when they catch his, she grins at him.

I consider taking out my camera and try to catch Moritz's feelings on film, try to decode what his look tells. But I've known him all of 24 hours and I don't want to scare the kid. So I create a film in my mind, record possible feelings from this sad, soulful runaway to my best friend's girl.

Suddenly, Joanne pushes back her chair and stands with her wine glass in hand.

"Guys, attention please?" she says in her rich voice, instantly claiming the group's attention.

"I'd like to propose a toast to Moritz Stiefel to welcome him into our family. He may have thought he was coming to New York to escape, but he was just trying to get home. So, welcome home, Moritz. I hope you'll like God-forsaken Alphabet City, because we're not going to let you go anytime soon. Cheers!"

We clink wine glasses and beer bottles, and drink to new friendships.

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**Hmm, I felt that this chapter was weaker than the others, and so it was shorter. However, Chapter 6 is already written and I think it's my favourite. Read on, chapter 6 will be posted very soon.**


	6. I Should Tell You, I'm Disaster

**Moritz's POV**

After dinner, Mark, Roger, Mimi and I walk back to their building. I still can't think of it as my hone yet, though Joanne had so warmly welcomed me in.

Roger seems to be shoving Mark around on the sidewalk, though I can't tell if Roger is drunk or not. I walk behind them and Mimi, hanging back, still unsure of my status among them.

Suddenly, Mimi is at my side with her arm around me. "Hey, hun. You're not very talkative, are you?"

"I guess I'm just shy. Everyone has been so kind to me, even though I've done nothing for you. I should tell you, I'm useless, I'm disaster. But no one seems to mind."

"Moritz, no one is expecting anything of you. We just like your company. To be honest, you remind most of us of ourselves when we were your age."

A certain wave familiarity hits me, and without thinking, I glance over at her, down at her petite frame. She doesn't notice, but I blush furiously in the dusk.

As we reach the apartment, Roger slides his arm around Mimi's wait and winks at me as he unlocks their door. Mark and I climb another flight of stairs and push back the flat's door. Mark starts towards the cupboard where Roger had taken the booze from the night before. Mark, however, stops and looks back at me before changing directions and flops out on the worn couch. I get the idea that Mark usually spends these lonely Saturday nights alone with a bottle, but he seems to disagree with Roger about me drinking at this age. I fold into a thick chair across from him and he watches me.

"So," he says evidently searching quickly in his head for a topic to break the silence. "You seem to be getting along with Joanne."

I nod, thinking of the kind lawyer who didn't seem bothered by my questions during dinner.

"And…Mimi, on the way home…" he says carefully, in a way that makes me want to slap myself again and again for staring at her like that tonight.

I nod again, this time without meeting his eyes.

A knock from the staircase outside relieves the moment. The door slides open and I close my eyes when Mimi's face comes into view. I won't stare at her again tonight.

"Hey, I'm just stopping by on my way to work. Check on the kid, make sure you're taking good care of him," she teases Mark. "Is he asleep already?"

She must have caught sight of my closed eyelids. I open them, planning on giving her a sleepy smile, but as her body comes into view, my heart stops.

Her legs are covered in tight blue fabric. Blue stockings, like in my dreams. I feel a stirring, a hardening below my waistline, and I bolt to the bathroom, slam the door and fall apart.

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**Let's just say that I feel quite clever for weaving Mimi's blue tights(Broadway Version) into Moritz's fantasy dreams from Spring Awakening. I really hope everyone enjoys.**


	7. December 24th, 9PM Eastern Standard Time

**Moritz's POV**

One month I've been in New York. One month of getting used to Mark's little habits, on month of Maureen's flamboyancy, one month of friendly insults towards someone named Benny, whom I had never met. One month of Mimi's blue tights.

That night, I claimed sickness, even creating retching noises until their worried words drifted away from the door. When I regained my composure and left the bathroom fifteen minutes later, Mimi had gone. Mark was waiting for me, sitting on a couch in the large open room. He watched me, slowly. Asked if I was alright. I assured him I was, but he peered at me from behind his glasses, and my skin crawled as I wondered if he could know. But then he asked me a question with an almost parental concern: Had I been tested? Was it possible I was sick, like Angel and Collins, like Roger and Mimi? No, I had said. It wasn't possible. He'd dismissed it after that and let me be.

I've managed to contain the overpowering stirrings since that night. Even when I caught sight of Mimi's tights as she chasayed off to 'work'. I learned quickly that she's no ballerina, but a feline with the power to comb the night.

But she's faithful to Roger, as far as I can tell. She doesn't wonder with the men that pour into her club. She seems contented sitting curled up to Roger, or simply listening as he strums his guitar quietly. Often, he'll play a soft melody, something he's obviously written for her. Sometimes he sings. Mostly it's just the tune, but it always enchants her. As her name fades off the guitars strings, it's met with the whisper of "Again, Roger. Please."

It's at those times I know she'll never be more than a fantasy, dancing out of my reach.

* * *

I got a job working at the Life Café, a place with overpowering colours and life, where my new friends spend far too much of their time (or so they say), a place where I can experience New York without having to face it.

Though he claims I needn't worry about it, I feel better about handing over a portion of my pay check to Mark every week.

"It's fine, Moritz," he'd said to me. "We don't pay rent or anything. We're on better terms with Benny now."

"Food?" I'd suggested, but he just shook his head. "Look Mark. You didn't know a thing about me, but you pulled me off the street. You act like it's no big deal, like you're used to taking care of idiot runaways, but you guys fucking saved me. I just want to find a way to say thanks."

He let me chip in after that.

And now, at 9PM on Christmas Eve, I finish up with the last of my thank yous and haul them out the pine branch I'd picked up outside. The branch is wrapped in a glittering scarf of Mimi's. I smile.


	8. Christmas Bells Are Ringing

**Mark's POV**

Christmas morning dawns crisp and sharp. I wake to the sound of the homeless ringing their Christmas bells, hoping to attract a few more coins into their hats and cans.

I step out of my room, walk past Moritz's pine branch/Christmas tree and out onto the fire escape. I whistle once, and a young woman in a patched up coat turns from the street to face me. I drop the change from my wallet down to her feet, and she scrambles to pick it up, placing the money carefully into the jar she will be shaking all day.

"Thanks, man," she grins at me with uneven teeth and real appreciation.

"Merry Christmas," I reply, and retreat back into the flat, which is unusually warm for this time of year. And a happy New Year to you, Benny.

I'm making coffee when Moritz walks over to the kitchen sleepily.

"Merry Christmas," he says as he grabs a mug of bitter black liquid.

"Happy 8th day of Hanukkah," I answer.

"I thought you didn't celebrate Hanukkah anymore"

"I don't," I smile into my coffee.

"Did you invite everyone over for later today?" Moritz inquires hopefully. He's really into Christmas, it seems. Usually we just drink ourselves silly without much celebration. But Moritz has called the season's spirit upon us, and he seems to be set in a giving mood.

"They'll be here this evening. You've got them excited about Christmas for once, Moritz."

He smiles and glances over at the small pile of gifts under his makeshift tree. I have gifts for everyone too this year. A stack of tapes is sitting on my bedside table, each of them holding footage from the past few years, except for one. One film shows a group of bohemians each giving advice to their young new friend.

* * *

December 25th, 7PM, Eastern Standard Time, and everyone is gathered in the flat for our first real Christmas in years. Moritz begins handing out presents, wrapped tightly in newspaper. They fall open one at a time.

"Ooh!" squeals Maureen as she examines the cover of a book. "_Reach For the Stars: Tips For Performers_," she reads out, then leans over and pecks Moritz's lips, earning a deep blush from him and a glare from Joanne, who then opens vanilla scented candles. Her quiet smile shows her powerful thanks as she hugs Moritz tightly.

Once a pair of leather gloves for Collins, a sequined umbrella for Angel (none of us could figure out where he's gotten _that_ from), and a new guitar strap for Roger are all revealed, I turn to the package on my lap.

"Oh man, thanks Moritz," I say as a few rolls of film sit tumble out. "These are great, I really needed more."

He smiles, and we all turn to Mimi, who is last to open her gift. She pulls a small, narrow box out of the newspaper and flips the lid off, revealing a silver-coloured heart on a fine chain. She simply stares at it for a moment, and then crossed the room to Moritz for a hug.

"It's beautiful," she breaths, and she retreats.

I think I'm the only one to hear him whisper, "So are you."


	9. Over The Moon

**Mortiz's POV**

As Mimi steps back to Roger, as I whisper words I only wish I could say to her face, as Mark shoots me an all too knowing look, I turn my focus back to the room in its entirety. Maureen is sprawled across the couch, her head in Joanne's lap. Roger and Mimi occupy another sofa, and Angel and Collins are tangled together in the cushions of a chair. Mark and I sit side by side on wooden chairs, brought up from downstairs for the evening's festivities.

Collins pulls out a bottle, which makes its way around the circle. I almost pass it on without taking a sip, but Mimi had already taken a sip. With a quick glance in Mark's direction, I take a gulp, wincing at the burning in my throat I wasn't quite used to yet, and look at the bottle. Stains of lipstick circle the rim, and I can't help but imagine touching a certain pair of lips with my own. But the liquor had also gone through Angel, Maureen and Joanne, and Mimi is nestled close to Roger as if he holds the world.

Soon, people begin to stand, shake out their legs, leaving with a 'Merry Christmas'. Eventually, only Roger and Mimi are left, and as they too stand to go, I walk with Mimi towards the door.

"Thank you, Mortiz, for planning this. I haven't had a Christmas like this since I was a little girl. And this…" she fingers the pendent I had chosen for her, and suddenly a heat is beginning inside me. I look up, bringing her attention to the bundle of leaves above our heads.

"Mistletoe?" she whispers, a question but not.

I nod, blood pooling in my cheeks.

She smiles, stands on her toes and reaches up to kiss my cheek softly.

Electricity sparks at her touch, sending the nerves in my face pricking through the rest of my body. I feel my cheeks on fire. I feel my body on fire, all from one small touch of her lips.

I smile at her as Roger comes up from behind, slinging his arm around Mimi and leading her out the door.

"Happy Holidays!" he calls, and I wave half heartedly, not caring that she's with him, that she will always be with him, because right now I'm over the moon.

I'm warm, from the drink, from Benny's gift of heat, from the sparks still running through me. I collapse onto the couch that was until recently occupied by the most beautiful woman in my world.

I pick up the tape Mark had handed to me that evening. He told me mine wasn't like the ones he gave the others because my time here has been so short, but that I might find the content helpful in New York City.

Mark moves into his bedroom, and with one final 'Ho Ho Ho', shuts his door for the night.

I slid my tape into the player's slot and hit a button.

The film begins with her face, smiling at me with chocolate eyes. I watch in silence.


	10. No Day But Today

"This is an instructional video on how to survive in Alphabet City," Mimi tells me through the camera. "By the way, this was my idea, so don't let Mark take credit for it. You know he'll try," she says with a smile.

"Hey!" says an indignant Mark from behind the camera.

Another grin from Mimi and the scene changes. Collins sits on a stool in what I recognized as the kitchen of the flat he shares with Angel.

"The number one thing you should know is that although getting your ass kicked on Christmas may be the wimpiest time of year for that to happen, it's also the best time of year to play up your injuries to win more sympathy from the good-looking guy playing the pickle tub."

Off-screen, Angel's Voice calls out a sharp "Collins!"

Collins' eyes focus beyond the camera as he smiles ruefully. "Well, look where my moaning got us!"

He opens his arms to Angel, who mutters as she crosses suddenly into the scene. "I'll make you moan, alright," she says as she flings her arms around Collins and straddles him, covering him with a thousand kisses.

The camera turns suddenly onto Mark's face.

"And this is where Mark makes his great escape," he narrates, and the clip changes, settling on Angel who sits in the same stool that Collins had seemingly only vacated recently. Angel's wig is crooked, her lipstick smudged and her cheeks still flushed, but she sits daintily and smiles towards the camera.

"Honey, what you've got to know is that a pair of heels can save your life."

She lifts one foot, showing me a dagger-like stiletto.

"If you know where to stab someone with one of these, you're golden. I'll be giving you lessons soon enough."

Scene change to Maureen and Joanne's place. Joanne looks into the lens and tells me seriously, "If you're ever getting mugged, just let them have what they want. Any money, it doesn't matter. Just let them have it and there's a better chance you won't be hurt."

"BORING!" shouts Maureen and the camera is jarred for an instant with the distinct plea of "Give them back, Mo!"

The focus straightens and Maureen wears Mark's glasses perched crookedly on her nose.

"Moritz, pookie, you just need to know that if you're meant to be with a woman, then you're meant to be with a woman and you shouldn't waste so much time with a nerdy guy just because he's willing to be your puppet." She grins wickedly at the camera, and the cameraman beyond it.

The clip shifts to Roger.

"Moritz, man, if a hot girl climbs through your window with hair full of moonlight and eyes for only you, no matter how fucked up you are, _do not push her away._ God."

To Mark, who sits in a chair at the Life, holding the camera up to his face.

" Don't fall in love with someone who isn't meant to love you back." He smiles sadly and glances to his left. Although I can't be certain, I know he's looking at Maureen.

To Mimi, last of all.

"Moritz, this city comes at you fast. You can have everything one minute, but in a second, it's gone. So, I guess my advice to you, to myself and to everyone is to live every second of your life. No day but today, right?"


	11. I Die Without You

**Mark's POV**

Winter passes. For a time, life is stable. Moritz's presence fades from new to average. We celebrate birthdays; Maureen's in February (near Valentine's Day, of course), Roger's in March. Moritz turned 16 April 9th. I capture everything, saving memories for harder times.

By the beginning of May, the city finally thaws. I shoot outside more often, focusing on the charms of New York.

Some days it rains, and on these days I sit for hours in the Life Café, or simply alone in the flat as the world cleanses itself.

On one of those days, Moritz and I move quietly around the flat, listening to the rain outside and the drops falling into the pail under the broken skylight.

Suddenly, a hard bang comes from the door before it slides open, revealing Roger, soaking and shaking like a leaf, though the rain outside is warm.

"Mark…Mark," he croaks, and I grab him, hold him up as his knees give way. "It's Mimi."

Moritz is at my side, helping Roger onto the couch as he begins heaving out sobs, sounds which wind me like a punch in the stomach.

"Roger, tell us. What's wrong? What happened to Mimi?"

"She -" he chokes out, then starts again. "She collapsed. She's in the hospital now. Oh God! Not now."

"Roger," I say, keeping my voice calm even though my dread is increasing. "Is it -?"

"The virus? Yeah. Mark? She's –" He can't finish. Moritz sits frozen and silent.

"Did you come here just to tell us?" I ask. Roger nods. I rise from the sofa, quickly collecting odds and ends; my camera, wallet, whatever I may need. "I'm calling the others and then we're going to the hospital."

* * *

Mimi is sleeping hen we arrive. The three of us surround her bed. Her tiny frame appears so frail under the white sheets. She's hooked up to several machines. They blink at us, keeping her alive.

Roger falls to his knees, gripping her hand in his. "Meems? Please wake up. Please." She doesn't stir.

"I can't," he says roughly, and pushed through the door. I look at Moritz, who hasn't taken his eyes off of Mimi. He sinks into the chair at her side and just watches.

He sits for an hour, the hour I spend with Roger in the hospital lobby. Roger can't watch her die. Moritz can't let her go. When I return to Mimi's room to tell Moritz I'm leaving, I find him, his face streaked with tears, clutching her hand as if her body holds the answers to life itself.

I can read his expression clearly: _I die without you._


	12. Goodbye Love

**Moritz's POV**

We bury Mimi on a day the May weather changes dramatically to cold. Closed casket, few people. I meet Benny for the first time, but that doesn't matter now

Tiger lilies decorate the funeral, my idea. They suit her. She will always remain young and powerful in our minds. A feline.

AS we send her off, awash with our tears, I think only, _goodbye, love, _because she was. The only person I ever loved. Will ever love.

* * *

That night, I make a purchase. I roam the streets of New York. I've left Mark a note, telling him what I'm doing, where he can find me. It's cold out here, unnaturally so for this time of year.

I reach Mimi's grave. The freshly packed dirt is cool on my knees.

"I love you," I say. The wind is my response

I put the gun in my mouth.

So dark.

**Fin.**

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**

There. To be honest, I wasn't sure where this story was going when I started it. I'm quite pleased with it, even if this last chapter was *wince* hard to write. But I guess it's fate. I love Moritz. It's hard to kill him, even if it's been done before. Anyways, please review and tell me what you thought of the completed story. Even negative comments are welcome.


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